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deercountry2022-11-30 09:41 pm
hammerbearer) wrote in deercountry2022-11-30 09:41 pm
Closing the Garden on the Wings of Winter [Closed to D]
Who: Gaia, D
What: Gaia is doing last minute chores to prepare for winter, but her reality warping keeps getting in the way.
When: Sometime in November
Where: Feed, Gaia's Home
Content Warnings: Nasty bird monsters, uncontrolled power
Gaia has been doing okay. Mostly. The problem this month hadn't been about her memories and that was just fine with her.
But it was a dangerous one for the well-being of others around her, so once her work was done she would not linger in the Outpost.
She's been doing the last preparations for the oncoming winter but has hit a snag in the process of winterizing the garden bed.
"Wait! Oh wicked white!" The curse she'd head many in the Crystarium back on her world say slipped from her lips as she stomped her foot against the edge of a shovel in frustration and caused it to sink deeper into the pile of earth she'd just been about to throw over the nutrient-rich mulch she'd gathered from the forest floor.
Before the debris had suddenly turned into a palm-sized bird thing that looked like an amalgamation of insect shells, mouse skulls, tufts of fur and dead leaves one might find decaying back to the earth. It took flight with a hiss of sound out of it that sounded more like a cold wind through leaves than an actual birdcall.
It's not the first one. Nearby bare branches of trees near the garden field are seen with other such creatures. Each looks different. Some look more twisted. Few have gone far from their creator.
There is a sizzle of sound in response to Gaia's outburst. It sounds threatening but there's equal odds that they are simply reacting with her emotions, rather than warning the threat she could represent.
What: Gaia is doing last minute chores to prepare for winter, but her reality warping keeps getting in the way.
When: Sometime in November
Where: Feed, Gaia's Home
Content Warnings: Nasty bird monsters, uncontrolled power
Gaia has been doing okay. Mostly. The problem this month hadn't been about her memories and that was just fine with her.
But it was a dangerous one for the well-being of others around her, so once her work was done she would not linger in the Outpost.
She's been doing the last preparations for the oncoming winter but has hit a snag in the process of winterizing the garden bed.
"Wait! Oh wicked white!" The curse she'd head many in the Crystarium back on her world say slipped from her lips as she stomped her foot against the edge of a shovel in frustration and caused it to sink deeper into the pile of earth she'd just been about to throw over the nutrient-rich mulch she'd gathered from the forest floor.
Before the debris had suddenly turned into a palm-sized bird thing that looked like an amalgamation of insect shells, mouse skulls, tufts of fur and dead leaves one might find decaying back to the earth. It took flight with a hiss of sound out of it that sounded more like a cold wind through leaves than an actual birdcall.
It's not the first one. Nearby bare branches of trees near the garden field are seen with other such creatures. Each looks different. Some look more twisted. Few have gone far from their creator.
There is a sizzle of sound in response to Gaia's outburst. It sounds threatening but there's equal odds that they are simply reacting with her emotions, rather than warning the threat she could represent.